


Sound of Your Voice

by Mazarin221b



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Ficlet, Harry's brainspace, M/M, POV First Person, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazarin221b/pseuds/Mazarin221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sometimes I watch you in the deep of the night when the world has gone to ground and you’ve had too much to drink, and you sprawl, boneless and laughing, in the pool of light from the lamp on my desk. You’re brash, cock-sure and proud and triumphant, and your joy explodes in the night like a thunderclap.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sound of Your Voice

**Author's Note:**

> The first line came to me and wouldn't leave me alone until I'd done something with it. I don't usually write first person, so I'm just experimenting a little bit with this one.

I wonder if you’d say my name when you come.

Sometimes I watch you in the deep of the night when the world has gone to ground and you’ve had too much to drink, and you sprawl, boneless and laughing, in the pool of light from the lamp on my desk. You’re brash, cock-sure and proud and triumphant, and your joy explodes in the night like a thunderclap.

I wonder if you’d wrap your thighs around my hips, shake apart in my arms, stomach flexed and gleaming with a sheen of sweat, fingers smeared with gunpowder and blood and the lives of the hundredth man you killed today. And if, in that whirlwind of adrenaline, if I would be in the front of your mind, if that one word would fall from your kiss-swollen lips like a benediction.

But then, too, I see you contemplative, silent, morning sun spilling across your shoulders as you read, and listen, and observe, and fill your mind with a thousand needed facts. My heart in my throat as you put it all to use, alone or not, your body moving with fluid grace, with efficient intent. You come back and see me, and a nod is all you give, all I need, to understand perfectly.

Sometimes no words between us are necessary.

But now you’re here with me on a rainy afternoon, curled in the corner of my office sofa, reading a book. Without asking, or pausing, you reach behind yourself to pull a throw from the back to wrap around your shoulders. Its chilly, and I don’t have the heating on yet, and your bare toes flex and burrow under the blanket.

I cross the room and kneel in front of you, tuck the blanket around your toes and rest my hand on your knee.

You lift an inquiring eyebrow but the quirk of your smile is inviting.

“Yes. Harry,” you say, and there it is.

I do wonder if you’ll say it when you come.

I’m about to find out.

 


End file.
